UC-NRLF 


H 


FORGET-ME-NOTS 

FROM    CALIFORNIA 


FORGET-ME- NOTS 
FROM   CALIFORNIA 


A     BOOK     OF    VERSE 


BY 
GRACE    HIBBARD 


SAN  FRANCISCO 

A.    M.    ROBERTSON 

1907 


COPYRIGHT,  1907 
BY  A.  M.  ROBERTSON 


THE  MURDOCH  PRESS 


LOVINGLY     INSCRIBED    TO 

MRS.  FRED  VAUGHAN       Miss  SALLIE  C.  PARKE 

MRS.  FLORENCE  EDDY  ROOT 

Miss  JOSEPHINE  MILDRED  BLANCH 

AND  TO  MY  BELOVED  CITY 

SAN  FRANCISCO 

By  token  of  the  blue  of  a  flower, 
Forget  me  not. 


242207 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

PRELUDE 9 

LITTLE    SOLDIER II 

DANDELION   DOWN 12 

LEST  THE  LOVED  DEAD  COME  BACK  AGAIN       ...  13 

A   WHITE   CHRYSANTHEMUM 14 

OAKLAND — BERKELEY — ALAMEDA           14 

THE   SENTINEL  TREE 15 

MARPESSA  TO  APOLLO l6 

SO  LONG  AGO l8 

DAFFODILS IQ 

"  NON  TE  SCORDAR  DI   ME  " 20 

HOPE 21 

A  DESERT  ROSE 21 

A  KISS 22 

WINDS  FROM   THE  SEA 22 

CALIFORNIA  VIOLETS 23 

NOT  FOR   ME 24 

"  I  WILL  COME  IN  THE  SPRING  " 25 

TWO   WAYS 25 

ON  THE  BEACH 26 

WHENCE  AND  WHITHER 27 

POSSIBILITIES 28 

A  ROSE-JAR 29 

MY  NEIGHBOR 2Q 

JAPANESE  BUTTERFLY  SONG 30 

CAST  AWAY 31 

IF 31 

BLUEBELL  CHIMES 32 


CONTENTS 
FROM  OUT  HEAVEN'S  DCCR 33 


THE  RAGMAN        ;.  -     I    '  ' .'.    • 35 

THE  WORLD  SO  SAD,  SO  GAY 3^ 

GOOD-NIGHT — GOOD-NIGHT! 37 

ELUSIVE 37 

A  PAGAN  GIRL'S  PRAYER  TO  THE  SUN         ....  3$ 

"  THE  HAUNTED  " 39 

COUPLET    (A   MOTTO  FOR  A   WOMAN'S   LIFE)          .       .  39 

NEW  YEAR'S  EVE 4° 

A  DREAM  SO  FAIR 41 

ONLY  A  FLOWER 41 

JUNE 42 

SHADOW   LAND 43 

THE  SUN-DIAL 44 

GREETING  FROM   CALIFORNIA 44 

DREAMING 45 

AT  SUNSET 46 

DAY  IS  DONE 47 

VOICES 48 

IN  THE  PAUSES  OF  THE  TRAIN 49 

AT  TWILIGHT 5° 

A  LOVE  SONG 5° 

FOR  GOD'S  GLORY 51 

"  I  WILL  RETURN  UNTO  THE  LORD  " 52 

THE  ROOF  BENEATH  THE  PINES 53 

AT  POMPEII 54 

"  BIDE  A  WEE  " 54 

WELCOME,   SWEET  DAY  ! 55 

FOUND S^ 

COMPENSATION 57 

THE  ENGINEER'S  LITTLE  DAUGHTER 58 

6 


CONTENTS 

A  TRYST 59 

MEMORIAL   DAY 60 

CHOOSING  A  DESTINY 6l 

JAPANESE   MINSTREL   SONG 62 

ALL  THAT  REMAINS 63 

IN  THE  STARLIGHT  WITH  YOU 64 

A   RED   ROSE 64 

SAINT  BARBARA 65 

ROSES  THAT  CLIMB  THE  WALL 66 

THE  INFINITY  OF  STARS 67 

CALL  NOT  THE  SEA  CRUEL 6/ 

A  WINTER'S  DAY 68 

HOW  SHALL  JOAN  OF  ARC  BE  PAINTED?      ...  70 

A  FRINGE  OF  GOLD 7* 

NEW  YEAR  FANCIES 72 

EASTER  SONG 73 

A  KING'S  DAUGHTER 74 

MEMORIAL  EVE 75 

GOLDEN  GATE  PARK  IN   MIDWINTER 76 

BEFORE  THE  SUN  GOES  DOWN 76 

JAPANESE  LULLABY 77 

DANCE  OF  THE  FIREFLIES 77 

VESPERS 78 

BETROTHAL 78 

MONTEREY'S  BLUE  HILLS 79 

UNTIL  WE  MEET  AGAIN 79 

GRAY  FOG  AND  RAIN 80 

SIMPLE  LIFE 8l 

"  I  SHALL  FIND  HIM  " 8l 

AS  A  ROSE 82 

A  PINK  ROSE  UPON  THE  SANDS 83 

A  BIRD'S  SONG 84 


CONTENTS 

BELLS   OF  VENICE 85 

WHEN    I   PASS    HER   HOUSE 86 

A   HEART-CRY 87 

CONSOLATION 88 

PROPHECY  OF  THE  ROSE 88 

RE-CREATION 89 

RAINBOWS QO 

TELL    ME 90 

WILD  VIOLETS 91 

AFLOAT 91 

THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SPRING 92 

A  SPARROW'S  FALL 95 

FOR  THE  BOY  IS  AWAY 95 

A    KEITH 96 

MY  STAR 96 

SING  A  SONG 97 

CAST  ASIDE 97 

NO  SEER  CAN  TELL  THEE 98 

ITALIAN  FISHERMAN'S  SONG 99 

GOOD-BY,  SWEET  DAY  ! IOO 

SPANISH  MATCH-BOY IOI 

LOVE'S    IMMORTALITY IO2 

AWAY  FROM   HOME Io6 

MORNING IO6 

HE  CAME  TO  ME  IN  A  DREAM  LAST  NIGHT      .     .  107 

DOWN  BY  THE  SUMMER  SEA 108 

THE  SUN  HAS  GONE  DOWN 109 

MY  HEART'S  CALENDAR 109 

WILD  POPPIES 110 

SOMEWHERE — SOMEWHERE Ill 

NORAH'S  LAMENT 112 

HIS  LITTLE  SUN-BROWNED  HAT 113 

8 


PRELUDE 
WHENCE    THE    POET? 

They  Itarn  in  tuf trine  what  tbty  teach  in  song. — SHELLHY. 

HE  breathed  in  breath  of  life  from  Summer  s  rose- 
filled  air; 

The  song  of  many  birds  trilled  in  his  ear; 
The  golden  sunlight  fell  upon  his  eyes, 

Inspiring  touch  of  prophet  and  of  seer. 
Beauty  entreated,  "  Sitig,  oh,  sing  of  me  !  " 

Like  butterflies,  all  gladness  came  on  wings ; 
Then  o'er  him  Sorroiu  bent  and  whispered  low, — 

"A  poet's  heart  is  broken  ere  he  sings!'1 


LITTLE    SOLDIER 

I  HOLD  my  little  soldier's  hat 
With  fond  caressing  hand; 

I  smooth  the  nodding  feather  out, 
And  then  the  twisted  band. 

He  ever  was  a  "  a  soldier  boy," 

"A  captain"  in  his  play; 
The  pretty  toy— his  fallen  sword— 

I  cannot  hide  away. 

Defying  Time— the  enemy— 
That  heals  the  wounded  heart, 

His  tiny  cannon  aimless  stands 
From  other  toys  apart. 

Outside,  upon  the  lilac-bush, 

His  plaything  flag  I  see; 
A  storm  has  dimmed  its  colors  bright, 

As  life  is  dimmed  for  me. 


ii 


DANDELION    DOWN 

WHERE  are  you  winging,  ghost  of  a  flower? 

You  seemed  but  a  star  in  the  springtide  bright. 
Where  are  you  wafting,  drifting,  floating, 

Down  of  a  blossom,  feathery  white? 

You  '11  frighten  roses  with  thoughts  of  dying ; 

They  '11  shiver  and  shudder  at  you  so  white, 
You  Ve  found  your  wings,  soft  tipped  with  silver, 

And  spirit-like  drift  in  the  pale  moonlight. 

Oh,  cease  your  wanderings,  wraith  of  a  flower! 

Oh,  hide  yourself  in  the  moist  brown  mould, 
And  another  springtide  the  sun  will  kiss  thee 

Back  to  a  star-like  blossom  of  gold. 


12 


LEST  THE  LOVED  DEAD  COME  BACK 
AGAIN 

LEST  the  loved  dead  come  back  again, 

Groping  their  way  through  the  infinite  space, 

Snatching  a  torch  from  among  the  bright  stars, 
To  light  a  pathway  unto  thy  face ; 

Lest  they  come  back  with  unheard  tread, 

Be  faithful  ever  unto  your  dead. 

Lest  the  loved  dead  come  back  again, 
Wearying  for  you  in  the  world  of  bliss, 

Longing  to  wreathe  you  with  unseen  arms, 
To  seal  you  their  own  with  the  old-time  kiss, 

And  with  white  fingers  your  hair  to  thread, 

Be  faithful  ever  unto  your  dead. 

Lest  the  loved  dead  come  back  again, 
Let  not  your  heart  to  the  living  stray, 

Lest  a  star-torch  fall  from  cold  white  hands, 
And,  despairing,  the  loved  dead  turn  away. 

Lest  they  come  back  with  unheard  tread, 

Be  faithful  ever  unto  your  dead. 


A    WHITE    CHRYSANTHEMUM 

LAST  night  beside  my  hearthstone 

She  sat  in  snowy  dress; 
The  firelight  touched  her  golden  hair 

With  many  a  fond  caress. 

She  wore  white  autumn  flowers, — 
Like  frozen  stars  they  seemed; 

One  flower  she  left,  else  I  should  think 
Of  angels  I  had  dreamed. 


OAKLAND— BERKELEY— ALAMEDA 

0  CLOSE-CLASPED  towns  across  the  bay, 
Whose  lights  like  gleaming  jewels  stray, 
A  ruby,  golden  splendid  way, 

When  day  from  earth  has  flown. 

1  watch  you  lighting  night  by  night, 
O  twisted  strands  of  jewels  bright! 
The  altar-fires  of  home,  alight — 

I  who  am  all  alone. 


THE    SENTINEL   TREE 
(CYPRESS  POINT,  CALIFORNIA) 

A  GIANT  sentinel,  alone  it  stands 
On  rocky  headland  where  the  breakers  roar, 
Parted  from  piny  woods  and  pebbled  shore, 
Holding  out  branches  as  imploring  hands. 
Poor  lonely  tree,  where  never  bird  doth  make 
Its  nest,  or  sing  at  morn  and  eve  to  thee, 
Nor  in  whose  shadow  wild  rose  calleth  bee 
To  come  on  gauzy  wing  for  love's  sweet  sake, 
Nature  cares  for  thee,  gives  thee  sunshine  gold, 
Handfuls  of  pearls  cast  from  the  crested  waves, 
For  thee  pink-throated  shells  soft  murmurs  hold, 
And  seaweed  vested  chorists  chant  in  caves. 
Whence  came  thee,  lone  one  of  an  alien  band, 
To  guard  an  outpost  of  this  sunset  land? 


MARPESSA    TO   APOLLO 
(Written  after  reading  Stephen  Phillips's  "Marpessa.") 

APOLLO,  thou  who  from  Themis'  hands  hast 
In  childhood  tasted  the  immortal  food — 
Nectar,  ambrosia — that  hast  made  thee  god, — 
Thou  of  the  bow  and  harp,  listen  to  me. 
From  high  Olympus  came  you  to  the  earth 
One  morning  in  the  rose-wreathed  summertime, 
A  god  in  human  form,  divinely  fair. 
Silver-stringed  harp,  by  gentle  Eros  touched, 
Announced  thy  coming  to  a  fountain's  side, 
And  I  was  straying  with  my  maidens  there, 
A  Grecian  girl  in  trailing  robe  of  white, 
With  wild  acanthus  blossoms  in  my  hair, 
That  rippled  like  the  sunlight  as  it  fell 
About  my  shoulders  to  my  sandaled  feet. 
Apollo,  god,  yet  son  of  Leto  born — 
You  called  me  fairer  and  more  beautiful 
Than  aught  e'er  was  on  earth,  in  sea,  or  sky. 
You  begged  my  love;  you  craved  me  for  your 

bride ; 
You  offered  gift  of  immortality; 

16 


MARPESSA   TO    APOLLO 

You  promised  me  that  I  should  ne'er  grow  old — 

Eternity  my  marriage  ring  should  be, 

If  I  would  choose  not  mortal,  but  a  god. 

Apollo,  hear  me,  while  I  tell  to  thee 

That  Idas  I  have  loved  from  childhood's  days, 

That  I  ordain  to  be  his  bride,  not  thine, 

E'en  though  a  god  and  beautiful  thou  art. 

I  dread  not  that  the  sunlight  from  my  hair 

Shall  fade  when  twilight  of  my  life  draws  near, 

Nor  that  I  turn  to  marble  if  it  be 

In  sleep  of  death  lies  Idas  at  my  side. 

Apollo,  listen:  hast  thou  never  heard 

That  in  a  temple  built  upon  Mars  Hill 

There  is  an  altar  "  To  the  Unknown  God  "  ? 

Him  do  I  worship — God  of  Gods  he  is. 

He  unto  all  who  dwell  upon  the  earth 

Has  brought  the  boon  you  offer  me — 

E'en  "life  and  immortality  to  light." 


SO   LONG   AGO 

THE  stars  look  out  to-night  through  wandering 

banks 

Of  white  unfallen  snow. 
It  seems  so  long  ago 
Since  clover  blooms  bent  heavy  with  the  weight 

of  yellow  bees, 
So  long  since  leafy  trees 
Held  fluttering  branches  up  to  summer  skies. 
Life  seems  to-night  as  gray 
And  drear  and  limitless  as   plains  that   stretch 

away 

To  where  a  star  hangs  low 
And  shines  through  wandering  banks 
Of  white  unfallen  snow. 


18 


DAFFODILS 

If  I  had  but  two  loaves  of  bread,   I   would  sell  one  and  buy 
white  hyacinths  to  feed  ray  soul. — The  Koran. 

0  DAFFODILS,  bright  daffodils ! 

I  'd  sell  my  other  loaf  for  thee ; 
Thou  art  so  bright,  I  love  thee  so, 
That  thou  art  soul-bread  unto  me. 

1  Ve  placed  thee  in  a  crystal  vase, 

As  clear  as  crystal  vase  can  be; 
Hold  high  thy  pretty  yellow  heads, 
While  I  a  story  tell  to  thee. 

Once  up  each  side  a  garden  path 
Two  lines  of  daffodils  did  stray, 

Two  golden  chains  of  memory 

That  link  my  childhood  with  to-day. 

Up  to  an  old  colonial  house, 

From  gate  to  doorsill,  side  by  side, 

Were  daffodils  in  yellow  gowns, 

Gay  daffodils — New  England's  pride. 

A  little  girl  stood  in  the  door, 

O  dearest  blossoms  'neath  the  sky! 

Her  heart  was  rilled  with  love  for  thee — 
O  daffodils,  that  girl  was  I! 

19 


NON   TE   SCORDAR  DI   ME"* 

OFT  on  the  crowded  street 
Goes  up  my  mournful  cry,< — 

"  Non  te  scordar  di  me," — 
Hundreds  hurrying  by. 

Soul-cries  move  not  the  lips, 
No  one  glances  at  me,' — 

"  Non  te  scordar  di  me," — 
Upward  I  send  to  thee. 

Thy  home  is  very  fair, 
Dear  one  above  the  blue ; 

"  Non  te  scordar  di  me," — 
Never  forgotten  are  you. 

*  "  Do  not  forget  me." 


20 


HOPE 

THERE  's  never  a  day  so  dark  and  drear, 

But  that  its  close  may  shine 
In  rose  and  gold  and  amethyst, 

And  tints  of  ruby  wine. 

There  's  never  a  night  so  wrapped  about 

In  mist  and  drifting  rain, 
But  that  the  clouds  may  roll  away 

And  stars  look  out  again. 


A   DESERT    ROSE 

THE  little  pink  cloud 

Of  a  summer  day, 
Afloat  and  adrift 

On  the  azure  way, 
Fell  o'er  the  desert 

Where  lonely  it  grows, 
Afar  from  skyland, 

The  pretty  wild  rose. 

21 


A   KISS 

THE  rose  you  gave  me  yesterday 

I  fastened  to  my  dress; 
The  perfume  of  the  sweet  white  rose 

Was  like  a  fond  caress. 

The  air  with  sunbeams  was  afloat, 
'T  was  near  the  day's  bright  close,— 

A  sunbeam  paused  on  yellow  wings 
And  kissed  the  sweet  white  rose. 


WINDS    FROM    THE    SEA 

WHAT  you  do  I  may  not  do, 

Kiss  her  forehead  fair, 
Bring  the  roses  to  her  cheeks, 

Ripple  her  bright  hair. 

Never  touch  of  mine  has  brought 

Rose-tints  to  her  face; 
Though  I  love  her,  ne'er  have  I 

In  her  heart  a  place. 


22 


CALIFORNIA    VIOLETS 
(AN  INVITATION) 

ON  the  Atlantic's  shores  the  fierce  north  winds, 

I  know, 
Autumn's  brown  leaves  are  scattering  far  and 

near, 
And   flowers   are   withered  by  the   frost's   cold 

touch, 
While  violets  are  here. 

Here  in  the  sunset  land  the  tender  grass 

Is  covering  hill  and  dale  with  living  green, 
And  fretted  in — mosaics  rare  of  blue — 
Are  violets  between. 

And  soon  the  golden  poppies  of  this  land 

Will  flame  in  splendid  beauty  everywhere ; 
The  roses  and  the  jasmine  sweet  will  fling 
Their  perfume  on  the  air. 

Oh,  come  unto  this  land  so  fair,  and  stay 

While  snow  is  on  the  pines  and  days  are  drear ; 
Come  where  the  sun  glints  through  the  broad- 
leaved  palms, 
For  violets  are  here. 

23 


NOT    FOR   ME 

(After  the  Japanese  of  K.  Ikadi) 

BEYOND  the  garden  wall 

A  fair  rose  groweth 

Stately  and  tall. 

"  Not  for  thee— not  for  thee," 

Whispers  the  wind  that  bloweth 

Over  the  garden  wall. 

Upon  the  garden  wall 

A  white  rose  leaneth 

Graceful  and  tall. 

Not  for  me — not  for  me, — 

While  love's  fond  dream  I  dreameth, 

Snowlike  its  petals  fall. 


24 


I    WILL   COME   IN    THE    SPRING" 

"  I  WILL  come  in  the  spring." 
Oh,  be  still,  throbbing  heart, 
Then  hush  every  sound — 
Did  I  hear  a  bird  sing? 

On  the  elm  I  see  wings 
And  a  bright  spot  of  red — 
A  robin  !  a  robin ! — 
Oh,  what  joy  it  brings! 

It  is  spring!     It  is  spring! 
Then  rejoice,  lonely  heart. 
He  will  come  !     He  will  come ! 
For  I  heard  a  bird  sing. 


TWO    WAYS 

IF  one  small  cloud  is  in  the  sky 
Life  seemeth  dark  to  you. 

I  call  life  bright  if  mid  the  clouds 
I  see  one  bit  of  blue. 


ON    THE    BEACH 

THE  white-crested  waves  at  my  feet 
Tossed  a  piece  of  a  ship  lost  at  sea. 

I  seized  it  quick  with  my  trembling  hands; 
Then  cast  it  away  from  me. 

In  fancy  I  saw  a  proud  ship 

Homeward  bound  from  the  bright  sunset  land, 
And  naught  was  left  of  that  white-winged  bark 

But  the  fragment  tossed  on  the  sand. 

No  avail  to  cast  it  away, 

For  the  waves  brought  it  back  to  the  strand, 
As  memory  brings  all  our  shipwrecked  hopes 

To  us  with  a  pitiless  hand. 


26 


WHENCE   AND   WHITHER 

WHENCE  came  the  summer  day 
Trailing  its  golden  hair 

Across  the  hills  and  fields? 
Whence  came  the  day  so  fair? 

Where  went  the  summer  day 
On  wings  of  burnished  gold, 

Of  amethyst  and  flame, 
Beyond  the  headland  bold? 

Whence  came  the  life  that  made 
My  life  a  summer  day? 

Where  went  the  soul  that  took 
Light  from  my  life  away? 


27 


POSSIBILITIES 

THERE  are  caverns  under  the  sea, 
Prison-houses  of  seething  fire; 
On  waves  above,  like  a  dream  of  love, 
A  white-winged  boat  may  idly  float, 
A  fragile  craft,  a  sunbeam  mote, 
O'er  Nature's  heart  of  ire. 

Or  cities  of  marble  and  stone 
That  from  blue  tropics  seas  arise, 
With  firefly  lights  on  rocky  heights, 
A  wave  may  sweep,  and  fathoms  deep 
Forever  may  lie  in  dreamless  sleep, 
Shut  out  from  the  star-gemmed  skies. 


28 


A    ROSE-JAR 

You  and  I  in  the  starlight, — 
Oh,  but  the  world  was  fair! — 

T  was  June,  and  there  were  roses, 
Roses  everywhere. 

Out  'neath  the  stars  together, — 
Oh,  but  the  stars  shone  bright ! — 

My  hands  were  filled  with  roses, 
Your  gift  that  summer  night. 

Here  are  the  sweet  dried  rose-leaves, 
Ghosts  of  the  blossoms  dead, 

Memories  of  the  starlight, 

Though  summer  days  have  fled. 


MY    NEIGHBOR 

WHO  is  my  neighbor?    It  is  he 
Who  plants  a  flower  in  my  way, 

To  make  the  world  a  brighter  place 
Upon  a  sea-gray,  sunless  day. 


29 


JAPANESE  BUTTERFLY  SONG 

CHANGED  after  death  was  I 
To  white-winged  butterfly — 

Ti-si,  my  bride,  's  a  star. 
Slight  wings  that  may  not  rise 
O'er  cherry-blooms   to  skies — 

To  Ti-si  sweet,  so  far. 

If  I  were  star,  would  she 
On  swift  wings  fly  to  me 

Up  to  the  bending  skies? 
Would  I  were  small  white  cloud, 
That  I  my  bride  might  shroud 

From  the  up-gazing  eyes! 

My  Ti-si  shines  for  all — 
O  Buddha,  make  her  fall 

Into  a  flower's  heart! 
For  far  I  cannot  fly, 
And  in  the  starlit  sky, 

Alas,  I  have  no  part. 


CAST   AWAY 

LIKE  "  the  base  Indian  "  of  long  ago, 
You  "  cast  away  a  pearl  " — 
I  wonder,  did  you  know? 

Aye,  in  the  dust  you  cast  a  true  heart  low, 
Your  one  white  lustrous  pearl — 
I  wonder,  did  you  know? 


IF 

O  MY  dead,  my  dead,  my  dead, 
If  only  you  might  draw  nigh! 

The  days  of  my  life  would  roll 
Like  golden  chariots  by. 

And  each  one  would  hold  a  king, 
And  love  would  the  scepter  be. 

O  my  dead,  my  dead,  my  dead, 
If  you  could  come  back  to  me! 


BLUEBELL    CHIMES 

THE  bonnie  bluebells,  Scotland's  pride, 
The  chime-bells  of  the  flowers, 

By  breezes  swept,  ring  out  sweet  tunes 
Through  sunny  summer  hours. 

JT  is  aye  of  Scotland  that  they  sing, 
These  truest-hearted  flowers — 

Of  poets,  heroes,  victories, 
Of  huts  and  palace  towers. 

Sometimes  the  bluebells  tender  grow, 

And  chime  a  plaintive  air, 
Of  Mary,  loveliest  of  queens, 

Or  Highland  Mary  fair. 

Ofttimes  a  grand  old  hymn  they  ring, 

A  hymn  of  long-past  days, 
Sung  in  some  kirk  amidst  the  broom, 

A  heartfelt  song  of  praise. 

Of  love  and  home,  of  peace  and  war, 
These  flower  chime-bells  sing; 

Oh,  many,  many  are  the  songs 
The  bonnie  bluebells  ring! 

32 


BLUEBELL    CHIMES 

I  listen  to  them,  for  I  love 

The  little  alien  band 
Down  in  the  garden,  and  I  hear 

Sweet  songs  of  their  "  ain  land." 


FROM    OUT    HEAVEN'S    DOOR 

I  HEARD  sweet  music  yesterday 

As  music  from  a  star; 
I  fancied  he  whom  most  I  love 

Had  left  Heaven's  door  ajar — 

That  I  might  hear  the  melody 
That  day  by  day  he  hears; 

Ecstatic  joy  was  in  my  heart, 
Though  unto  my  eyes  came  tears. 


33 


SUSPENSE 

THE  sky  and  the  sea,  like  two  nuns, 

Wear  mantles  of  gray; 
And  like  a  black  cross  seem  the  masts 

And  the  yards  of  a  ship  far  away. 

Is  it  coming,  coming  to  me — 

This  heavy  black  cross? 
Shall  the  hopes  and  the  joys  of  my  life 

Suffer  pitiful  shipwreck  and  loss? 

The  ship,  like  a  bird  on  the  wing, 

Seems  only  to  stay. 
Alas,  it  is  coming ! — it  tacks  1 — 

Oh,  thank  God,  it  is  sailing  away! 


34 


THE   RAGMAN 

A  RAGMAN,  driving  a  horse  of  gray, 
Cries  through  the  alleys  every  day: 
"  Sacks  and  umbrellas,  paper  and  bags, 
Bits  of  old  iron,  bottles  and  rags." 

Oh,  I  wonder  what  the  ragman  feels? 

Does  his  heart  thrill  at  the  blue  of  skies, 
The  ripple  of  sunlight  on  the  hills, 

The  tender  light  in  a  dear  child's  eyes? 

I  wonder  if  he  ever  notes 

The  rose  that  climbs  o'er  the  garden  wall  ? 
Or  counts  the  petals  of  faintest  pink 

As  one  by  one  through  the  air  they  fall  ? 

Is  his  life  threaded  with  daytime  dreams? 
Or  is  it  really  just  what  it  seems — 
"  Sacks  and  umbrellas,  paper  and  bags — 
Bits  of  old  iron,  bottles  and  rags  "  ? 


35 


THE   WORLD    SO    SAD,    SO    GAY 

As  DOWN  long  hills  I  went  to-day, 
The  joy  of  sunshine  in  my  face, 
I  thought,  Is  this  the  selfsame  place — 

The  world  of  yesterday  ? 

I  climbed  these  hills  but  yesterday, 
The  dash  of  rain  was  in  my  face. 
The  world  was  but  a  dreary  waste — 

The  world  of  yesterday. 

My  feet  upon  the  pavement  gray 
Beat  as  I  walked  a  low  refrain — 
The  world  has  moods  of  shine  and  rain, 

The  world  so  sad,  so  gay. 


GOOD-NIGHT  —  GOOD-NIGHT ! 

GOOD-NIGHT,  good-night! 

The  stars  are  in  the  sky, 
The  moon,  a  silver  lantern,  swings 

Above  the  mountains  high. 

Good-night,  good-night 

To  all  the  world!   My  sweet, 

Come  to  some  castle-hall  of  dreams, 
Thy  soul  my  soul  to  meet. 


ELUSIVE 

HAPPINESS  beckons  from  over  the  hills, 
In  the  golden  glory  of  sunset  skies, 

And  we  follow  the  toilsome  way  that  leads 
To  the  beautiful  land  of  tropic  dyes. 

But  lo!  when  the  purple  hills  are  climbed 
All  is  cold  and  drear  in  the  early  dawn, 

While  happiness  smiles,  as  backward  we  glance, 
In  the  sunrise  skies  of  a  summer  morn. 


37 


A  PAGAN  GIRL'S  PRAYER  TO  THE  SUN 
(B.  c.  500) 

O  SUN,  thou  god  whom  for  ages  my  people 
Have  worshiped,  low  in  the  sky  o'er  the  sea, 
There  thou  hangest  a  red  ball  of  fire, 
Tarry,  oh  tarry,  and  listen,  I  pray  thee! 

Thou  who  lightest  up  dark  places  with  sunbeams, 
Thou  who  paintest  the  flowers  and  rainbows, 
Thou  who  fillest  with  sunlight  o'erflowing 
The  cup  of  the  lotus,  list  to  my  sorrows ! 

O  bright  Sun,  thou  hast  left  me — thou  hast  fallen 
Down  into  the  waves !    Thy  blood  stains  the  sky 
In  the  west,  and  lies  red  on  the  waters — 
Thou  heardst  not  my  sorrows,  nor  answered  my 
prayer. 


"THE    HAUNTED" 

"  Come  out  of  the  past,  it  is  haunted." 

I  LOVE  to  go  back  to  "  the  haunted," 
For  pleasant  the  pathways  are  there. 

I  meet  in  them  father  and  mother — 
My  land  of  "  the  haunted  "  is  fair. 

It  holds  for  me  gay  childish  laughter, 
And  love  that  was  constant  and  true. 

My  past  is  a  land  of  pink  roses, 

Where  happy  I  walked,  dear,  with  you. 

It  lies  upon  beautiful  headlands 
O'erhanging  a  blue  summer  sea, 

With  white  sail  of  Faith  'gainst  the  sunset, 
And  Hope  on  the  white  waves  for  me. 


COUPLET 

(A   MOTTO   FOR  A  WOMAN'S  LIFE) 

LOVE  God,  and  one  true  man. 
Do  all  the  good  you  can. 

39 


NEW   YEAR'S    EVE 

BEFORE  the  bar  of  Conscience,  woman,  stand 

To-night  and  answer  me. 
Uplift  thy  soft  white  hand  to  pledge  the  truth, 

The  while  I  question  thee. 

The  year,  once  thine,  will  soon  be  thine  no  more. 

The  midnight  draweth  near. 
'T  is  for  thy  good  alone  I  question  thee, 

At  passing  of  the  year. 

Hast  thou  loved  God  the  Lord  with  all  thy  heart 

And  strength?  I  ask  of  thee; 
And  hast  thou  loved  thy  neighbor  as  thyself? 

0  woman,  answer  me! 

The  New  Year  now  has  come  mid  joy  of  bells ; 

1  cease  to  question  thee. 

Thy  soft,  white,  jeweled  hand  falls  at  thy  side. 
Thou  hast  not  answered  me! 


40 


A   DREAM    SO    FAIR 

LAST  night  I  dreamed  of  thee. 
Sweet  half -remembered  words 
Thou  saidst  came  back  to  me. 
Thy  kiss  upon  my  brow, 
The  sunlight  of  thy  smile, 
Thy  touch,  once  real — but  now 
A  dream! 


ONLY   A    FLOWER 

A  FLOWER  lay  in  the  dust 

On  a  crowded  city  street; 
Like  a  fallen  star  it  seemed 

Trampled  by  passing  feet. 
Crushed  were  its  silvery  rays, 

And  broken  its  golden  heart. 
In  the  glory  of  summertide 

It  could  never  more  have  a  part. 


JUNE 

THE  clover-fields 
Are  a-bloom  to-day. 

With  the  weight  of  bees 
The  blossoms  sway, 

Red  blossoms  of  clover-fields. 

From  an  unseen  where, 

On  an  unseen  way, 
Sunlight  and  shadows, 

Now  gold,  now  gray, 
Flit  over  the  clover-fields, 

While  yellow  bees  drone 

A  lazy  tune 
All  about  honey — 

For,  oh,  it  is  June, 
And  red  are  the  clover-fields. 


42 


SHADOW-LAND 

INTO  shadow-land  I  wandered, 

Led  by  Twilight's  hand, 
Gently  from  the  sunset  golden 

Into  that  drear  land. 

Dusky  shadows  all  about  me 

Whispered  sad  and  low, 
Saying  I  should  walk  forever 

In  their  vale  of  woe. 

Telling  on  my  life  forever 
Would  their  darkness  stay, 

As  across  the  threatening  heavens 
Then  a  dark  cloud  lay. 

Half-despairing,  wildly  cried  I 

To  the  somber  night: 
"  Take  me  from  the  gloomy  shadows 

To  the  blessed  light." 

Lo!  the  clouds  were  fringed  with 
moonbeams. 

Joy,  O  soul  of  mine! 
There  can  never  be  dark  shadows, 

Save  where  light  doth  shine. 

43 


THE    SUN-DIAL 

IT  only  marks  the  hours  that  shine, 

The  time  when  skies  are  bright, 
The  hours  when  sunbeam-roses  twine, 
The  hours  of  sunset's  red-spilled  wine,- 
It  notes  not  clouds  or  night. 

O  Memory,  I  cry  to  thee, 

Mark  but  my  hours  that  shine; 
All  love  and  kindness  show  to  me, 
The  best,  the  brightest  let  me  see, 
Mark  but  my  hours  that  shine. 


GREETING    FROM    CALIFORNIA 

SWEET  roses  crown  this  sunset  land, 
At  Christmas-tide  they  grow, 

Pink  rose-leaves  are  its  summer  clouds, 
White  petals  are  its  snow. 


44 


DREAMING 

IDLY  sitting  by  my  window,  fair  dreams  dreaming, 
Dreaming  snowy  clouds  are  castles  seeming 
Built  on  gray  rocks  in  the  sky-sea  lying, 
Stormed  by  golden  arrows  flying. 

Idly  sitting  by  my  window,  fair  dreams  dreaming, 
Dreaming  snowy  clouds  are  white  waves  gleaming, 
On  the  tropic  blue  of  sky-sea  dashing, 
In  the  brightness  of  the  sunset  flashing. 

Idly  sitting  by  my  window,  fair  dreams  dreaming, 
Dreaming  white  clouds  are  cherub  faces  beaming, 
With  bright  fleecy  hair  around  them  streaming, 
In  the  twilight  idly  I  sit  dreaming. 

Idy  sitting  by  my  window,  fair  dreams  dreaming, 
Castles,  white  waves,  and  cherub  faces  beaming, 
Turned  to  empty  air,  like  all  earth's  dreaming, 
But  above  me — lo !  the  stars  are  gleaming. 


45 


AT    SUNSET 

IT  is  so  bright  above  the  hills, 
I  wonder  what  beyond  them  lies 
So  golden-glorious  look  the  skies. 

It  is  so  bright  above  the  hills, 
I  wonder  if  beyond  the  skies 
There  is  a  land  of  glad  surprise — 

More  beautiful  than  heart  can  dream, 
To  which  the  gold  o'er  hills  shall  seem 
A  pale  and  fitful  fading  dream. 


DAY    IS    DONE 

SUNSET  flames  in  tropic  dyes, 
Moonrise  tints  the  eastern  skies 

Palest  gold; 

Grasses  rustle  in  the  breeze, 
Whisperings  are  in  the  trees 

Manifold. 

Faded  now  the  tropic  dyes; 

Stars  look  forth  like  saintly  eyes, 
One  by  one; 

O'er  the  solemn  forest  pines 

Suddenly  the  round  moon  shines- 
Day  is  done. 


47 


VOICES 

LISTEN  unto  the  sea's 
Soft   sighing,   sighing; 

See  tangled  wisps  of  fog 
Low  flying,  flying. 

Watch  craft  of  fisherman 
Slow  winging,  winging; 

Hear  in  the  cypress  trees 
Ghost-voices  singing. 

Upon  gray,  ragged  rocks 
Waves  dash  repining; 

Through  rent  in  cold  gray  fog 
The  sun  is  shining; 

Listen,  you  '11  hear  the  sea's 
Heart  throbbing,   throbbing; 

Listen,  for  men  and  ships 
Lost  it  is  sobbing. 


IN  THE  PAUSES  OF  THE  TRAIN 

THE  desert  hath  a  voice, — 
In  the  pauses  of  the  train 

I  hear  it  o'er  and  o'er, 
A  weird  and  low  refrain. 

A  voice  is  on  the  plains; 

It  is  not  wind  or  rain, 
For  the  lush  grass  doth  not  move, 

And  we  look  for  clouds  in  vain. 

The  desert  hath  a  voice, — 

Is  it  flying  of  wild  feet? 
The  hardy  buffalo's? 

The  timid  deer's  retreat? 

The  emigrant's  sad  cry? 

The  wail  of  Indian  slain? 
This  melody  of  sands 

In  the  pauses  of  the  train. 


49 


AT   TWILIGHT 

PALE  is  the  fading  gold  above  the  sea, — 

'T  is  almost  night. 
From  shadow-rock  the  lighthouse  signals  flash, 

Now  red,  now  white. 

An  ash-gray  ship  glides  through  the  Golden  Gate, 

Past  forts  that  frown. 
Why  does  one  ship  in  safety  reach  the  port, 

And  one  go  down? 


A   LOVE-SONG 

IF  we  were  yon  seabirds  out  on  the  sands, 
And  I  spread  my  wings  for  an  outbound  flight, 

Dear  heart,  O  dear  heart,  would  you  follow  me 
From  sheltering  shores  over  billows  white? 

If  I  were  a  seabird  on  the  sands, 

With  wings  to  waft  me  over  the  blue, 

I  would  spread  my  wings  for  very  joy, 
And  over  the  billows  follow  you. 


FOR   GOD'S   GLORY 

Suggested  by  a  sermon  of  Dr.  David  James,  of  San  Rafael. 

NOT  for  thy  joy  alone  art  placed  here, 

Sad  heart  bowed  low; 
Higher,  holier  is  thy  mission, 

God's  love  to  show. 

Stood  thou,  beloved,  in  pleasant  places 

Where  the  sun  shone; 
Now  in  the  wilderness,  mid  shadows, 

Thou  art  alone. 

Remember,  Soul,  't  is  for  God's  glory 

That  thou  art  here. 
Show  to  the  world  his  love  upholds  thee, 

Thou  hast  no  fear. 

Come  from  the  shadows  that  surround  thee 

With  hasty  flight. 
The  glory  that  thou  showest  others 

Shall  be  thy  light. 

Forget  thyself,  thy  God  remember, 

Sing  a  glad  song. 
Stand  thou  in  sunlight  or  in  shadow, — 

'T  is  not  for  long. 


I  WILL  RETURN  UNTO  THE  LORD" 

I  WILL  return  unto  my  people's  God, 

Back  to  the  truths  in  childhood  taught  to  me. 

I  will  return  repentant  to  the  Lord; 
Unto  no  other  will  I  bow  the  knee. 

It  was  the  Lord  who  made  the  universe; 

Each  star  he  formed  and  sent  it  on  its  way. 
He  made  the  moon,  the  "  lesser  light,"  to  shine ; 

He  made  the  sun,  the  glory  of  the  day. 

He  parted  from  the  waters  the  dry  land; 

He  fixed  their  bounds,  and  bade  the  waters  stay ; 
The  cattle  on  the  hills,  the  savage  beasts, 

The  birds  of  air,  the  storms,  his  laws  obey. 

I  will  return  unto  my  people's  God, 

Back  to  the  truths  in  childhood  taught  to  me. 
I  will  return  repentant  to  the  Lord; 

Unto  no  other  will  I  bow  the  knee. 


THE    ROOF    BENEATH    THE    PINES 
(AT  CARMEL-BY-THE-SEA) 

OH,  the  patter  of  the  raindrops  on  the  roof  be 
neath  the  pines ! 
Oh,  the  howling  of  the  winds  like  wolf-voices 

'round  the  door! 
Oh,  the  thought  of  long-wrecked  ships  and  ot 

sailors  lost  at  sea! 

Oh,  the  sound  of  breakers  beating  on  the  rocks 
along  the  shore ! 

Oh,  the  midnight  stars  soft  shining  on  the  roof 

beneath  the  pines ! 
Oh,  the  swaying  of  the  ivy  about  the  cottage 

door ! 
Oh,  the  crescent  moon  low-hanging  alight  above 

the  sea! 

Oh,  the  lapping  of  the  wavelets  softly  rippling 
on  the  shore! 


53 


AT    POMPEII 

UNDER  cloudless  skies  of  blue, 
Mid  the  zephyrs  wand'ring  free, 

Thanking  God  for  life,  for  life, 
Stand  I  in  dead  Pompeii. 

Silence,  not  the  song  of  birds, 
Never  rose  to  call  a  bee, — 

Thanking  God  for  life,  for  life, 
Stand  I  in  dead  Pompeii. 


"BIDE   A   WEE" 

"  BIDE  a  wee,  and  dinna  fret," 
For  the  sun  is  shining  yet, 
In  some  Otherwhere. 

Though  you  walk  o'ershadowed,  yet 
"  Bide  a  wee,  and  dinna  fret," 
There  's  an  Otherwhere. 


54 


WELCOME,    SWEET   DAY! 

I  NOTE  thy  coming  by  the  bright'ning 

Of  skies  afar, 
Though,  like  a  lamp  long  burning, 

Still  shines  a  star. 

Already  on  the  eastward  tree-tops 

Trails  thy  bright  hair. 
Night  hath  a  gift  of  dewdrop  jewels 

For  thee  to  wear. 

'T  is  strange  I  joy  so  at  thy  coming, — 

For  my  heart  sings, — 
I  fancy  thou  wilt  bring  some  gladness 

Upon  thy  wings. 

From  rose  and  opal  skies  hath  faded 

The  one  white  star; 
Flowers  doth  open  thee  to  welcome, 

So  glad  they  are. 

Birds  on  the  branches  wake  with  singing, 

Light  gilds  the  sea. 
O  Day,  well-loved  by  birds  and  flowers, 

I  welcome  thee ! 


55 


FOUND 

I  WATCH  the  tender  leaves  this  April  day  un 
folding, 
And  look  upon  the  shadows  flitting  o'er  the 

lawn, 

And  I  see  children's  faces  bright  and  winning. 
The  faces  of  my  darlings,  long,  long  gone. 

The  first  I  see  is  baby,  in  his  dimpled  sweetness, 
Blue  eyes,  white  face,  and  little  rings  of  curl 
ing  hair. 

I  hold  my  hands  out  to  embrace  him  fondly, 
Alas,  they  only  meet  the  empty  air! 

Again  I  feel  a  rosy  hand  mine  holding, 

And  guide  two  wee  feet  trying  hard  to  cross 
the  floor 

To  see  dear  Carlo  soundly  sleeping 

In  the  warm  sunshine  just  outside  the  door. 

In  sailor  suit  and  hat,  with  many  happy  children, 
I  see  my  schoolboy  coming  down  the  village 
street, 

56 


FOUND 

His  hair  wind-tossed,  his  glowing  cheeks  like 

roses, — 
Again  my  schoolboy  I  shall  never  greet. 

Away,  away  with  all  my  sweetly  tender  dreaming ! 

I  hear  a  bounding  step  upon  the  oaken  stair; 
I  look  into  the  blue  eyes  bending  o'er  me, — 

My  baby,  toddler,  schoolboy,  all  are  there. 


COMPENSATION 

DARK  clouds  rolled  over  the  sky, 
And  but  one  star  could  I  see. 

I  cried  in  my  wild  despair, 

"  Let  the  bright  star  shine  for  me." 

But  the  purple  clouds  rolled  on 
And  hid  the  star  from  my  sight, 

When  lo,  where  the  clouds  had  been, 
The  fair  moon  was  shining  bright! 


57 


THE   ENGINEER'S    LITTLE   DAUGHTER 

WHERE  far  away  the  two  long  tracks 

Seem  running  into  one, 
I  watch  and  watch  for  father's  train 

At  setting  of  the  sun. 

I  seem  a  giant  as  I  stand, 

My  shadow  at  my  side; 
The  engine  just  a  tiny  dot 

Upon  the  prairie  wide. 

But,  oh,  it  grows,  and  grows,  and  grows 

Into  a  monster  high, 
Flying  a  silver  banner  out 

Again  the  eastern  sky. 

My  father  'tis  the  engine  drives; 

He  watches  out  for  me, 
And  whistles  by  the  willow  trees 

To  let  me  know  't  is  he. 

He  takes  me  on  the  engine  tall ; 

I  ride  when  it  goes  slow, 
Backing  about  from  track  to  track, 

Taking  on  freight,  you  know. 

58 


THE    ENGINEER'S    LITTLE    DAUGHTER 

I  love  my  father  very  much, 
And  when  he  kisses  me, 

I  never  mind  that  he  is  black 
And  leaves  the  black  on  me. 

When  I  go  home  my  mother  dear 
Speaks  soft  and  low  to  me, 

And  kisses  me — I  wonder  why  ? — 
Just  where  the  black  spots  be. 


A   TRYST 

A  GATE  of  scarlet  in  the  west 
Shuts  out  the  autumn  day, 

A  gate  with  bars  of  amethyst 
And  sunset's  opal  gray. 

Keeping  a  tryst  outside  the  gate, 
Is  Day,  in  robes  of  white. 

We  call  it  twilight  when  she  meets 
Her  somber  lover,  Night. 


59 


MEMORIAL    DAY 

IN  a  quiet  spot  beside  the  sea, 
'Neath  sobbing  pine-trees  many,  many  miles 
away, 

Lies  a  soldier  brave. 
Like  a  pagan  woman,  to  the  sun  I  cry, 

"  Decorate  his  grave, 

"  O  Sun !  send  down  your  beams  most  brightly ; 
Make   on   that  grave  mourned  by  the   ever- 
restless  sea 
Blue  violets  grow. 
O  summer  wild  birds,  sing  above  my  soldier 

dead 
A  requiem  low !  " 

When  on  his  grave  tributes  of  flowers 
His  soldier-comrades  brave  shall  place,  they  '11 
start  at  sight 

Of  violets  blue, 
Nor  dream  at  prayer  of  mine,  for  love  of  him, 

The  violets  grew. 


60 


CHOOSING   A    DESTINY 
(MEDI) 

UNTO  the  temple  I  come, 

The  temple  with  golden  bells; 

I  stand  on  the  pavement  white, 
I  listen  for  what  my  heart  tells. 

Shall  I  grasp  the  soft  silken  cord 
And  ring  for  the  goddess  of  Fame? 

A  bulbul  out  on  a  tree 

Sings  softly  sweet  Medi's  name. 

Shall  I  choose  the  bright  swinging  rope 
That  gleams  like  the  sunset  skies, 

And  summon  the  goddess  of  Wealth? 
My  jewels  are  Medi's  eyes. 

I  hold  the  azure-blue  cord 

I  have  chosen  among  the  bells. 

I  call  for  the  goddess  of  Love, 

I  have  listened  to  what  my  heart  tells. 


61 


JAPANESE   MINSTREL    SONG 

I  AM  a  minstrel  poor — 
(  Ting-a-ling }  ling-a-le) — 

She  's  a  chrysanthemum ; 
What  can  she  care  for  me? 

Silk  her  kimono  is, 

Jewel-pins  hold  her  hair. 

(Ting-a-ling,  ting-a-ling) — 
What  can  she  for  me  care? 

Yet  to  the  moon  I  '11  sing 

'Neath  window  of  my  sweet,— 

(Ting-a-ling — heart  of  mine) — 
A  rose  falls  at  my  feet. 


62 


ALL   THAT    REMAINS 

IN  a  fair  southern  land  an  old  church  stands, 
A  ruin,  with  curious  roof  of  tiles; 

Through  crumbling  arches  gray  star-tapers  gleam 
And  moonlight-shadows  wander  up  its  aisles. 

Through  rift  in  broken  roof  sunbeams  caress 
The  pictured  face  of  saint  with  golden  hair; 

Time's  hand  has  blotted  out  each  one  save  hers, 
Of  all  the  holy  faces  gathered  there. 

When  noble  lord  and  peasant  too  pass  by 
That  ancient  church  upon  their  several  ways, 

Before  the  saint  with  the  bright  golden  hair 
In  loving  homage  each  one  kneels  and  prays. 

Like  the  old  Spanish  church,  many  a  life, 
A  ruin  now,  once  was  a  holy  place, 

Upon  whose  walls  of  memory  still  hang 
The  picture  of  some  loving,  saintly  face. 


IN    THE    STARLIGHT    WITH    YOU 

OUT  in  the  starlight  and  half-tropic  sweetness, 
'Neath  skies  of  soft  azure  deep'ning  in  hue 

Up  to  the  zenith's  shimmering  darkness — 
Out  in  the  starlight  walking  with  you. 

Out  in  the  starlight  mid  incense  of  flowers, 
Winging  its  way  to  the  infinite  blue, 

Just  for  one  moment  forgetting  life's  sorrows* — 
Out  in  the  starlight  walking  with  you. 


A    RED    ROSE 

'T  WAS  but  a  line  from  an  old  Scotch  song, 

And  a  bonnie  rose  of  red. 
"  I  gave  my  love  a  red,  red  rose," 

Were  the  song-words  that  he  said. 

"  His  love,  his  love,"  glad  her  small  hands 
clasped 

The  rose,  for  she  loved  him  well. 
Oh,  never  a  sweeter  way  could  be 

Than  to  let  a  red  rose  tell ! 


SAINT    BARBARA 

BARBARA'S  eyes  are  brown, 
Barbara's  face  is  fair. 

With  halo  I  would  crown 
Barbara's  silken  hair. 

Barbara's  words  are  kind, 
Barbara's  words  are  wise; 

Generous  are  her  acts, 
And  love  looks  from  her  eyes. 

She  "  seeketh  not  her  own," 
But  lifteth  up  the  faint. 

Shrined  in  many  a  heart, 
Love  canonized  her  saint. 


ROSES   THAT   CLIMB  THE  WALL 

OVER  high  walls  on  a  city  street 

Red  roses  wander  and  swing, 
As  if  they  loved  the  hurrying  crowd, — 

They  could  do  no  sweeter  thing. 

For  hearts  are  sorry  and  mourn  their  dead, 

And  bread  is  hard  to  win; 
There  may  be  fairer  flowers  than  these 

The  garden  walls  within. 

But,  oh,  the  roses  that  climb  the  wall 

Are  the  roses  that  I  sing; 
For  unto  the  toiling,  weary  ones 

Thoughts  of  beauty  they  bring. 


66 


THE    INFINITY    OF    STARS 

TAKE  out  beneath  the  golden  dust  of  stars 

Thy  stormy  heart. 
There  learn  beneath  the  countless  shining  worlds 

How  small  thou  art! 

What  matter  if  you  mourn,  or  laugh,  or  rage, — 

Stars  still  will  shine. 
In  space,  and  earth,  and  air,  and  sea,  how  small 

A  part  is  thine ! 


CALL    NOT   THE    SEA    CRUEL 

CALL  not  the  sea  cruel. 
Oh,  rather  say 
It  is  the  sun 
Bids  wild  winds  come 
To  smite  and  slay, 
To  lash  the  waves 
Of  summer  seas 
To  mountains  high, 
To  yawning  graves, — 
Call  not  the  sea  cruel. 

67 


A   WINTER'S    DAY 
(CALIFORNIA) 

TO-DAY  I  hold  pink  rose-buds,  lilies  white, 

Daisies  and  wildwood  violets  in  my  hand. 
Dark  ivy  to  the  casement  clings. 

The  sea  a  sapphire  gleams,   an  emerald  the 

land. 

A  tiny  shadow — 't  is  a  tropic  bird  in  flight, 
That  cuts  a  sunbeam  with  its  wings, 
Its  scarlet  wings, 
And  glad  song  sings. 

Such  is  fair  California's  winter  day. 

Where  is  the  sparkling,  dazzling  icy  crown? 
The  ermine  robe  on  plain  and  hill? 

The  last  year's  empty  nest  in  branches  brown  ? 
The  snow  on  trees?    The  little   snow-birds? — 

flown  away? 

The  frozen  lake?     The  moonlight  still? 
The  moonlight  still 
On  icy  hill? 

68 


A   WINTER'S    DAY 

Where  are  the  branches  bending  'neath  the  snow  ? 

The  silver  fringe  of  icicles  upon  the  eaves? 
The  marble  of  the  hills  and  dells? 

The  north  wind  scattering  far  the  dry  brown 

leaves  ? 
The  frost  upon  the  panes?    The  firelight's  bright 

glow? 

The  merry,  merry  sound  of  bells? 
The  sound  of  bells 
In  icy  dells? 

Grim  Winter  heard  upon  the  mountains  tall 

The  softly  wooing  voice  of  the  fair  tropic  sea, 
Felt  kisses  of  the  warm  sweet  air, 
The  flower-filled  air,  that  whispered,  "  Come 

with  me." 

Dropped  ermine  robe,  let  icy  scepter  fall, 
And  stole  from  mountains  down  to  land  of  all 

most  fair — 
To  land  most  fair 
From  icy  air. 


HOW    SHALL    JOAN    OF    ARC    BE 
PAINTED? 

As   CHILD   shall   she   be   painted,   watching  her 

father's  flocks, 

Wandering  among  the  lambs,  the  gentlest  there, 
In  meadows  tender  green,  starred  with  a  few 

wild  flowers, 

A  crown  of  buttercups  upon  her  long  bright 
hair? 

Or  shall  Joan  be  painted  as  a  warrior  in  armor, 
Leading  to  battle  soldiers,  though  but  maiden 

fair; 
Riding  on  snow-white  plunging  warhorse,  a  lone 

guiding  star, 
Helmet  in  place  of  buttercups  upon  her  hair? 

Or  in  the  marketplace  of  Rouen  shall  he  paint 

her, 
Bound  to  a  stake  with  cruel  chains,  her  life 

work  done, 

Faggots  and  tiny  scarlet  wings  of  fire  about  her, 
Crowned  with  a  halo  by  the  golden  setting  sun  ? 

70 


HOW   SHALL  JOAN   OF  ARC   BE   PAINTED? 

No,  rather  let  the  artist  paint  her  as  she  listens, 
Her  face  inspired  uplifted  unto  heaven's  far 

blue, 
List'ning    entranced    to    voices    all    unheard    by 

others, 
Telling  Joan  the  mighty  work  she  has  to  do. 


A    FRINGE    OF   GOLD 

THE  golden  billows  of  poppies 

Roll  out  on  the  headlands  bold, 
And  the  white  pearls  of  the  breakers 

Meet  the  shining  flowers  of  gold 
That  ripple  in  lines  of  beauty, 

Dividing  the  sea  from  the  land — 
A  tangle  of  gold  and  sea-pearls, 

Bright  fringe  of  the  sunset  strand. 


NEW    YEAR    FANCIES 

FORGETTING  the  past  with  its  dreams 

That  faded  away 
Like  the  dazzling  orange  and  scarlet  of  sunset 

That  came  not  to  stay. 

The  fleecy  white  clouds  you  fancied 

Were  castles  most  fair, 

With  towers  and  turrets,  with  banners  of  sun 
beams 

Afloat  in  the  air. 

Forgetting  the  past,  with  its  dreams 

Like  tales  that  are  told, 

Dream   dreams  brighter,   aye   fairer,   than   ever 
before 

In  years  now  grown  old. 


EASTER    SONG 

CROWN  Christ  the  risen  King 

This  Easter  day. 
All  who  have  life  and  breath 

Own  his  blest  sway. 

Repentant  ones  draw  near 

The  mercy-seat; 
Hearts  white  as  lilies  lay 

At  Jesus'  feet. 

Sing  how  he  loved  the  world, 

The  Crucified. 
Sing  how  for  sins  of  men 

The  Saviour  died. 

Join  the  angelic  hosts 

Who  ever  sing — 
"  Glory  and  honor  to 

The  risen  King!" 


73 


A    KING'S    DAUGHTER 

IF  upon  the  city's  street 

My  fair  princess  you  should  meet, 

Ina,  with  her  face  so  young  and  fair, 
In  her  simple  woolen  dress, 
You  would  never,  never  guess 

To  a  royal  kingdom  she  was  heir. 

Those  who  know  my  princess  well 
To  each  other  often  tell 

Of  her  life  so  simple,  yet  so  grand; 
That  upon  her  golden  hair 
Rests  a  crown  of  jewels  rare, 

Placed  there  by  a  loving  Father's  hand. 

Tiny  cross  my  princess  wears, 
In  token  that  she  shares 

Burdens  with  all  children  of  the  King. 
Storm-tossed  ones  she  guides  aright, 
Like  the  North  Star  shining  bright, 

To  the  safe,  sure  shadow  of  His  wing. 

74 


A    KING'S    DAUGHTER 

Earthly  kingdoms  are  laid  low, 
But  her  Father's  throne  we  know 

Through  eternity  shall  stand. 
Burdened  here  with  many  a  care, 
She  will  reign  a  princess  there, 

In  the  City  of  the  Lord,  her  King. 


MEMORIAL    EVE 

T  is  holy  time  to-night ; 

I  fancy  I  can  hear 
The  sound  of  marching  feet, 

Soft  music  drawing  near, 
The  muffled  drum's  low  beat. 

The  morning  draweth  nigh, 
Our  Sabbath  of  the  year. 

The  day  to  scatter  flowers, 
The  time  for  falling  tear 

For  heroes  who  were  ours. 


75 


GOLDEN   GATE   PARK   IN   MIDWINTER 
(SAN  FRANCISCO) 

THE  dewdrops  hang  on  the  bending  grass, 

A  dragon-fly  cuts  a  sunbeam  through, 
The  moaning  cypress-trees  lift  somber  arms 

Up  to  skies  of  cloudless  blue. 
A  humming-bird  sips  from  a  golden  cup, 

In  the  hedge  a  hidden  bird  sings, 
And  a  butterfly  among  the  flowers 

Tells  me  that  my  soul  has  wings. 


BEFORE   THE    SUN    GOES    DOWN 

BATHED  is  the  western  sky  in  glory, 
Soon  will  go  down  the  sun. 

Be  reconciled  unto  thy  brother 
Ere  yet  the  day  is  done. 

Lest  thou  shalt  pine  alone  in  prison, 
Shut  from  his  love  away, 

Be  reconciled — the  west  is  golden — 
Before  the  close  of  day. 


JAPANESE   LULLABY 

SLEEP,  lilies;  sleep,  lilies, 
On  the  waters  blue, 

While  the  leaves  on  the  trees 
Whisper  unto  you. 

Sleep,  lilies;  sleep,  lilies, 

Folded  safe  away 
Mid  the  reeds  and  rushes 

Till  another  day. 

Sleep,  lilies;  sleep,  lilies, 
On  the  waters  blue, 

While  a  bright  star-lantern 
Watches  over  you. 


DANCE   OF   THE    FIREFLIES 

THE  fireflies  have  a  dance  to-night; 
Rice-fields  and  rivers  are  all  alight. 
Fireflies  are  but  stars  on  the  wing — 
Summer-night  dancers — ting-a-ling-ling ! 


77 


VESPERS 

SUNSET'S  red  wine  lies  on  the  curling  waves, 
Soft-tinted  clouds  are  edged  with  living  gold. 

One  half-lit  star  hangs  white  above  the  sea, 
And  Silence  stands  upon  the  headland  bold. 

From  out  the  tall  straight  pines  that  fringe  the 
shore 

Trills  suddenly  upon  the  summer  air 
A  bird's  clear  notes,  a  song  to  coming  stars, 

A  Gloria  to  God  for  loving  care. 


BETROTHAL 

I  HAVE  cast  my  ring  on  the  waves,- 
I  love  thee,  I  love  thee,  O  sea! 

From  this  summer  day,  forever, 
I  have  plighted  my  troth  to  thee. 


MONTEREY'S    BLUE    HILLS 

I  'M  sure  upon  the  circling  hills 
Forget-me-nots  do  grow, 

So  deep  blue  do  they  look  to-day 
Beyond  the  billow's  snow. 

The  azure  sky  above  the  hills 
In  love  is  bending  low ; 

I  'm  sure  upon  the  circling  hills 
Forget-me-nots  do  grow. 


UNTIL   WE    MEET    AGAIN 

0  DEAREST  ONE,  O  dearest  one, 
The  hours  were  so  sweet! 

God  care  for  you,  God  comfort  me, 
Until  again  we  meet! 

1  cry  to  you,  I  call  to  you, 
I  cry,  but  all  in  vain. 

God  care  for  you,  God  comfort  me, 
Until  we  meet  again! 


79 


GRAY    FOG   AND   RAIN 
(A  MOOD) 

THERE  is  no  earth  and  there  is  no  sea; 

'T  is  chaos — gray  fog  and  rain. 
The  ships  on  the  bay  are  phantoms  dim,- 

Please,  God,  send  sunshine  again. 

The  beautiful  girl  I  call  a  rose 
Will  fade  with  the  coming  years; 

The  lily  growing  out  on  the  lawn 
Is  but  a  chalice  for  tears. 

There  is  no  earth  and  there  is  no  sea, 
No  sky — but  chaos  doth  reign; 

A  ship  has  foundered  in  empty  space, 
Please,  God,  "  let  light  be  "  again. 


80 


SIMPLE    LIFE 

FEW  are  the  needs  we  have,  love, 
As  we  fare  along  life's  way. 

"  A  loaf  of  bread,  a  jug  of  wine," 
And  a  reed  to  joy  the  day. 

Then  don  your  simple  gown,  love, 
And  a  pilgrim's  cloak  of  gray: 

We  '11  fare  along,  and  pipe  a  song, 
Dear  love,  on  the  king's  highway 


"I    SHALL    FIND    HIM" 

NOT  in  unbounded  space, 
By  sophists'  reason  fed, 
By  masters'  wisdom  led 
In  paths  their  followers  trace, 

Shall  I  find  God. 
But  in  the  "  Promised  Place," 
For  sake  of  sins  forgiven, 
And  for  my  soul's  love  given, 
I  shall  behold  the  face, 

Of  Christ,  my  Lord. 

81 


AS    A   ROSE 

SOFT  petals  of  a  rose 

Are  falling  on  the  garden  way — 
The  rose  that  was  the  queen 

Of  this  fair,  golden  summer  day. 

Love  blossomed  like  a  rose 
In  happy  garden  of  my  heart; 

It  faded  soon,  and  in 

My  life  no  longer  has  a  part. 

None  can  restore  the  rose 

When  once  its  tender  petals  fall, 
Nor  to  the  heart  again 

A  love  grown  cold  and  dim  recall. 


82 


A    PINK   ROSE   UPON    THE    SANDS 

TO  ANNA   FRANCES  BRIGGS 

THERE  's  a  pink  rose  lying  upon  the  sands. 

Did  you  see  her,  pines?    Has  she  passed  this 

way? 
Her  eyes  are  as  blue  as  the  summer  skies, 

And  her  face  as  fair  as  a  dreamland  day. 

In  her  sunny  hair  was  a  pale  pink  rose, 

Her  dress  was  as  white  as  the  sea's  soft  spray ; 

O  pine  trees  that  grow  on  the  cold,  brown  rocks, 
Did  the  girl  I  love  on  the  headland  stray? 


A    BIRD'S    SONG 

BRIEF  the  song  of  a  bird, 

A  ripple  and  trill 
In  the  branch  of  a  tree, 

Then  silence — until 

From  vine  that  is  bending 
Beneath  blossoms  white, 

Comes  twitter  and  trill — then 
The  songster's  glad  flight 

Through  gold  path  of  sunshine, 
With  joy-notes  that  thrill 

All  hearts  with  the  sweetness 
Of  ripple  and  trill. 

Brief,  brief  are  my  carols; 

To  hearts  I  would  sing 
Of  sunshine  and  gladness, 

Like  bird  on  the  wing. 


BELLS   OF   VENICE 

SILENCE  o'er  city  fair, 
Not  a  breeze  sighing; 

Silence  in  palace  old 
At  the  day's  dying. 

Gold  in  the  sunset  sky 

And  on  sea  lying; 
Long  lines  of  golden  light 

Like  arrows  flying. 

Boats  on  the  paths  of  blue, 
Blue  sky  o'erbending; 

Silence  o'er  city  fair 
At  the  day's  ending. 

Lo!  as  with  one  accord, 
From    each   church-tower, 

Ring  bells  melodious 
At  sunset's  hour. 

Silence  unbroken  save 
For  sweet  bells  ringing, 

As  through  the  sunset's  gate 
Day's  flight  is  winging. 

85 


WHEN    I    PASS    HER   HOUSE 

WHEN  I  pass  the  house 
Where  she  used  to  dwell, 

Tears  come  to  my  eyes, 
For  I  loved  her  well. 

Voice  I  seem  to  hear, 
Sweet  as  silver  bell, 

When  I  pass  the  house 
Where  she  used  to  dwell. 


86 


A    HEART-CRY 

ONCE  't  was  mine,  the  picture  that  I  love  so  well — 

Oh,  so  well ! 
Love  for  me,  his  mother,  in  that  boyish  face, 

I  could  trace. 

And  his  eyes  of  summer  azure  seemed  to  see 

Only  me. 
Earliest  of  sunbeams  kissed  his  burnished  hair — 

Oh,  so  fair ! 

On  the  wall  it  hung  that  awful  April  day, 

I  away. 
None  was  there,  my  picture  child,  to  rescue  thee. 

Pity  me ! 

Day  of  earthquake's  sudden  terror,  awful  shock — 

Flames  that  mock. 
Raging  flames  of  the  Inferno's  lurid  glow — 

Down  below. 

Did  you  plead,  my  darling  ?    Beg  the  flames  to  stay  ? 

Plead  and  pray? 
Plead  to  spare  you  for  your  mother's  eyes  to  see  ? 

Plead  for  me? 

87 


CONSOLATION 

(For  all  of  us  who  lost  our  homes  by  earthquake  and  fire  in  San 
Francisco,  April  18,  1906.) 

O  THOU  whose  home  is  turned  to  ashes  cold  and 

white — 
Thou  who  before  the  awful  flames  affrighted 

fled, 

Dost  thou  remember  in  thy  grief  and  sorrowing, 
That  He  who  loved  us  had  not  where  to  lay  his 

head? 


PROPHECY   OF   THE   ROSE 

A    NEW    SAN    FRANCISCO 

OVER  a  ruin  a  rose-vine  climbeth, 

Wreathing  a  broken  stair, 
Clinging  to  wall  and  to  broken  casement, 

Once  a  garden  was  there. 

Rose  of  the  ruin,  thou  art  prophetic; 

E'en  as  it  is  with  thee, 
Out  of  gray  ashes  shall  rise  a  city, 

Queen  of  the  sunset  sea. 


88 


RE-CREATION 

EACH  day  the  world  is  formed  anew; 

God  speaks  and  says :  "  Let  there  be  light!  " 
Between  each  day  there  is  a  grave, 

The  long,  dark,  silent  sunless  night. 

Though  Memory's  tapers — the  bright  stars — 

Burn  on  the  altars  of  the  sky, 
We  should  not  gaze  regretfully, 

Or  for  the  lost  days  vainly  cry. 

From  out  of  chaos  rises  fair 

A  re-created  world  each  dawn, 
Another  Eden  given  man 

In  which  each  life  again  is  born. 

A  world  of  hope,  and  joy,  and  love, — 
Perchance  a  world  of  care  and  sorrow ; 

But  never  of  despair — oh,  no ! 

A  new  world  will  be  born  to-morrow. 


RAINBOWS 

I  AM  always  looking  for  rainbows, — 

Are  you? 
And  amid  storm-swept  skies  for  bits  of 

Bright  blue. 

And  sometimes  I  find  them,  the  rainbows,- 

Do  you? 
And  ofttimes  they  greet  me,  the  bits  of 

Bright  blue. 


TELL    ME 

DID  you  ever  find  a  glove 

In  a  hasty  search  some  day 
For  handkerchief  or   fan? 

Did  you  hide  your  face  away? 
Did  you  sob  and  cry  and  moan 

In  your  party  dress  so  gay? 
Did  you  call  him  to  come  back — 

He  who  never,  never  may? 


90 


WILD   VIOLETS 

"  WEAR  them  and  think  of  me  to-day,"  I  said, 
And  fastened  violets  upon  her  dress. 

Their  perfume  wafted  upward  to  her  face 
Like  some  fair  spirit's  loving  fond  caress. 

They  stayed  with  her  through  all  that  springtide 

day, 
Those  wildwood  blossoms, — why  were  they  so 

blest?— 

And  when  the  stars  shone  in  the  evening  skies, 
Their   life   work   done,   they   died   upon   her 
breast. 


AFLOAT 

ON  long-past  midnight  skies 

Of  sapphire  afloat, 
Mid  myriads  of  stars, 

There   sails  a  silver  boat. 

Beneath  a  star  it  dips 
Upon  its  lonely  way, 

And  drifts  a  helpless  wreck 
Into  the  harbor — Day. 

91 


THE    SPIRIT    OF   THE    SPRING 

WE  made  our  home  in  the  wilderness, 
The  wilderness  of  billowy  grass, 

That  rose  and  fell  at  the  tide  of  winds, 
But  lay  at  noontide  a  sea  of  glass. 

I  was  an  artist  who  sought  to  catch 
The  sunset's  glory  on  prairie  wide ; 

A  picture  to  paint,  was  my  fond  hope, 
For  the  Salon — and  she  was  my  bride. 

Before  our  cottage  a  cottonwood  grew, 
Whose    heart-shaped    leaves,    like    hummin 
bird's  wing, 

Fluttered  and  quivered  on  slender  stems, 
And  in  its  shadow  a  bubbling  spring. 

Summer  had  passed  like  a  spirit  by, 
The  cottonwood's  leaves  were  sear  and  gra 

And  the  cornstalks  stood  like  sentinels, 
Summer's  outposts,  that  sad  autumn  day. 

But,  alas,  the  sunset  I  had  sought 
To  capture  on  canvas  for  the  Salon 

92 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   SPRING 

Still  burned  in  the  sky  and  in  my  brain, 
And  radiant  summer  was  gone! 

The  noon  was  hot  and  breathless  and  still, 
The  white  clouds  rose  like  mountains  high, 

Peak  above  peak,  grim  giants  at  war, 
In  the  far-away  blue  western  sky. 

I  mounted  my  horse  that  sultry  noon, 
Not  heeding  her  voice  who  bade  me  stay, 

Nor  the  mute  appeal  of  her  white  arms 
Held  out  to  me  as  I  rode  away. 

I  rode  and  rode  for  many  a  mile, 
My  sombrero  down  over  my  eyes, 

And  smoked  cigarettes,  and  cursed  my  fate, 
Till  a  tint  of  gray  crept  o'er  the  skies. 

Was  my  brain  maddened,  or  did  I  hear 
The  whisper  of  demon  from  below? 

"  There  '11  be  no  red  in  the  sunset  to-night ; 
Paint  thou  the  prairie-fire's  red  glow." 

The  air  was  breathless  and  still  and  hot, 
The  billowy  grass  a  motionless  sea, 

No  breeze  was  coming  from  east  to  west; 
I  threw  my  cigarette  far  from  me. 

93 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   SPRING 

A  torch  of  fire,  my  cigarette 

The  dry  grass  changed  to  fluttering  wings 
Of  scarlet  and  gold ;  then  serpents  crawled 

In  sinuous  paths,  like  living  things. 

I  thought  of  Pharaoh's  struggling  hosts, 
As  frantic  I  crossed  the  fiery  sea 

To  rescue  her,  far  dearer  than  life, 

And  some  way  a  path  was  made  for  me. 

For  she  was  alone,  my  darling  one; 

In  the  fire's  path  our  cabin  stood. 
I  saw,  like  a  shower  of  falling  stars, 

The  blood-red  leaves  of  the  cottonwood. 

Before  our  ruined  cabin  I  stood, 

Wild  with  despair  'neath  the  leafless  tree, 

Calling  my  darling's  name  o'er  and  o'er, 
Begging  my  darling  to  come  back  to  me. 

Up  out  of  the  spring  my  darling  came, 

A  look  of  ecstasy  on  her  face. 
My  picture  "  The  Spirit  of  the  Spring," 

In  the  Paris  Salon  had  a  place. 


94 


A    SPARROW'S    FALL 

IN  the  garden-path  a  dead  bird  lieth, 

No  flutter  of  wing  for  an  upward  flight; 

It  died  when  the  moon,  a  lamp  low  hanging, 
Shed  on  the  earth  its  silvery  light. 

Now  a  holy  place  the  garden  seemeth 
In  the  early  dawn  of  a  spring  day  fair; 

For  One  came  at  sound  of  the  sparrow's  crying ; 
He  noted  its  fall,  and  was  with  it  there. 


FOR   THE   BOY    IS   AWAY 

No  NOISY  crackers  to  buy  this  year, 
No  danger  from  cannon  small  to  fear, — 
For  the  boy  is  away. 

No  young  sun-browned  hands  the  flag  to  fling 
From  casement  high  a  fluttering  wing,. — 
For  the  boy  is  away. 

No  powder-grimed  hands  and  face  this  year; 
But  sobs  for  me,  and  many  a  tear, — 
For  the  boy  is  away. 

95 


A    KEITH 

I  GAZED  upon  a  landscape  from  a  master's  han 
So  grand  and  awesome  was  the  canon,  that 

sight 

I  fancied  lightest  footsteps  falling  on  the  floo 
Would  echo  and  re-echo  from  each  mounta 
height. 


MY    STAR 

SOME  time  I  '11  dwell  in  a  star. 

It  is  given  me  to  know; 
In  the  hush  of  a  summer  night 

It  was  whispered  soft  and  low. 

Ofttimes  I  gaze  on  my  star ; 

'T  is  in  northern  skies  to-night. 
It  glimmers  and  gleams  and  glints,— 

My  beautiful  world  of  light. 

And  you,  on  the  sky-sea  wrecked, 
Close-clinging  to  moonbeam  spar, 

Floating  and.  drifting,  will  come 
To  me  in  my  island  star. 

96 


SING   A    SONG 

SING  a  song,  sing  a  song  in  the  morning, 
For  the  night  has  vanished  away. 

Sing  a  song,  sing  a  song  in  the  morning, 
A  song  to  the  beautiful  day. 

Sing  a  song,  sing  a  song  in  the  evening ; 

Thou  hast  been  His  care  all  the  day. 
Sing  a  song,  sing  a  song  in  the  evening, 

A  farewell  to  beautiful  day. 


CAST    ASIDE 

A  BABY  sitting  in  the  sunshine  on  the  floor 
Tried  with  her  dimpled  hand  to  brush  a  sun 
beam  from  her  dress. 

So,  sitting  in  life's  sunshine,  we  oft  cast  aside 
With  thoughtless  hands,  counting  as  naught, 
the  brightness  sent  to  bless. 


97 


NO    SEER    CAN    TELL   THEE 

FATE  is  the  unfolding 

As  of  a  rose  ; 
Wait  till  its  petals  sweet 

Time  shall  disclose. 

Green  bud  cannot  reveal 

The  rose  to  thee; 
Suns  must  arise  and  set 

Ere  thou  shalt  see 

If  the  full  rose  is  white, 

As  for  the  dead, 
Or  come  for  life's  sweet  joys 

A  rose  of  red. 

Seers  cannot  read  thy  fate, 

What  it  shall  be ; 
Years,  as  a  rose,  unfold 

Thy  fate  to  thee. 


ITALIAN    FISHERMAN'S    SONG 

"  E  DEL  MIO  CUORE  LA  CARINA  "  * 

SUNSET'S  bright  hour  and  vesper-bells  ringing, 
Brown  lateen-sail  and  a  fisherman  singing, 
"  E  del  mio  cuore  la  carina," — 
An  incoming  boat  on  the  white  harbor  bar. 

Down  'neath  blue  billows  the  golden  sun  dying, 
Wine-tinted  lights  on  sapphire  sea  lying, — 
"  E  del  mio  cuore  la  carina," — 
Sweet  song  of  a  fisherman,  near,  then  afar. 

Cries  of  wild  sea-gulls  o'er  twilight  sea  winging, 

Sweet  song  of  Italian  fisherman  singing, 

"  E  del  mio  cuore  la  carina," — 

A  brown  lateen  sail  beneath  evening's  first  star. 

*  "  She  is  the  darling  of  my  heart." 


99 


GOOD-BY,    SWEET   DAY! 

THOU  up  the  twilight  hills  art  trailing, — 

Good-by,  sweet  day! 
Take  of  the  earth  its  fairest  givings 

Upon  thy  way. 

Soon  on  the  heights  wilt  thou  be  standing, 

From  earth  afar, 
Lighting,  to  cheer  thy  onward  going, 

Evening's  first  star. 

Thou  wilt  come  back  to  us,  ah,  never! — 

Thy  work  is  done. 
Joined  thou  the  days  departed 

At  set  of  sun. 

Thou  didst  hear  sobs  and  sounds  of  crying — 

Cries  all  in  vain ; 
Thou  heardst  the  joy  of  some,  the  laughter, 

In  thy  brief  reign. 

I  watch  thy  pathway  by  the  lighting 

Of  star  and  star; 
To-morrow's  hands  the  gates  of  opal 

Soon  will  unbar. 


100 


SPANISH    MATCH-BOY 

OVER  his  shoulder  a  big  brown  sack, — 

"  Mat-chees — mat-chees ! 
Lady,  not  one  have  I  sold  to-day — 

Buy  please — buy  please !  " 

Picturesque  boy,  he  stood  in  the  door, — 
"  Mat-chees— mat-chees !  " 

Brown  soulful  eyes  that  implore,  implore,- 
"  Buy  please — buy  please !  " 

Sad  little  fellow  in  half-ragged  clothes, 
Patched  knees — patched  knees. 

"  I  sell  for  Madre — Padre  is  dead ; 
Buy  please — buy  please! 
Mat-chees — mat-chees !  " 


101 


LOVE'S    IMMORTALITY 

IN  far-off  classic  land, 
Blazing  torch  in  her  hand, 

On  a  high  tower, 
Stood  Hero  young  and  fair, 
With  halo  of  bright  hair, 

At  the  midnight  hour. 

Out  on  the  inky  night 
Fluttered  the  red  torchlight 

To  guide  her  lover; 
Flaring  in  the  keen  blast, 
Then  lost,  like  star  o'ercast, 

Held  high  above  her. 

Not  half  a  year  ago, 

In  vestal  robes  like  snow, 

To  sound  of  lyres, 
Upon  an  altar  bright, 
On  Venus'  festal  night, 

She  fed  the  fires. 

102 


LOVE'S   IMMORTALITY 

Child  of  a  noble  Greek, 
With  face  of  virgin  meek, 

Eyes  of  heaven's  blue ; 
Mid  clouds  of  incense  rare 
She  stood  a  priestess  fair, 

To  the  goddess  true. 

Love  made  her  vows  as  naught, 
Sweet  lesson  she  was  taught 

In  one  short  hour. 
Dark  eyes  of  Thracian  youth 
Told  her  the  wondrous  truth 

Of  love's  great  power. 

Banished  to  island  lone, 
To  castle  ivy-grown, 

Alone  they  left  her. 
Love  can  bridge  waters  wide, 
So  soon  to  Hero's  side 

Came  young  Leander. 

Swimming  the  Hellespont 
Nightly  became  his  wont, 
To  Hero's  tower. 

103 


LOVE'S  IMMORTALITY 

First  by  the  moon's  soft  light, 
Making  a  pathway  bright 
At  moonrise  hour. 


But  came  a  stormy  night, 
With  lightnings  flashing  bright 

And  sad  winds  wailing. 
Moonless  and  starless  sky, 
Black  clouds  o'er  gray  sky  fly, 

Pirate  ships  sailing. 

Love  can  make  darkness  light, 
Out  on  the  stormy  night 

Hero's  torch  flashes. 
Leander  sees  the  gleam, 
And  in  the  angry  stream 

Heedlessly  dashes. 

Pitiless  breakers  roar, 
Louder  than  e'er  before 

Seem  to  the  swimmer; 
Darker  the  gray  sky  grows, 
Wilder  the  storm-wind  blows, 

Hero's  light  dimmer. 

104 


LOVE'S   IMMORTALITY 

She  from  her  tower  prays 
Goddess  of  her  young  days 

To  save  her  lover. 
Brighter  the  lightnings  flash, 
Louder  the  breakers  dash, 

No  stars  above  her. 

Down  on  the  rocks  below, 
Mid  breakers  white  as  snow, 

There  he  lies  dying. 
Down  to  his  side  she  leaps, 
Torch  in  her  hand  she  keeps, 

Meteor  flying. 

Long  line  of  golden  light, 
Lighting  fair  Hero's  flight 

Through  death's  dark  portal. 
Such  love,  that  does  not  shrink 
Even  from  death's  dread  brink, 

Must  be  immortal. 


105 


AWAY    FROM    HOME 

BEAUTIFUL  butterfly,  brown  and  white, 
With  spots  of  black  and  gold, 

Why  are  you  here  in  the  city's  street, 
The  city  so  somber  and  old? 

The  roses  red  and  the  roses  white 
That  climb  on  the  garden  wall 

To  my  clover-field  a  message  sent, 
And  I  came  at  their  loving  call. 


MORNING 

MORNING  trails  her  bright  golden  hair 
Over  the  hills  in  the  eastern  skies. 

She  puts  out  the  stars  with  her  fingers  fair 
And  lights  up  the  sun  with  her  eyes. 


1 06 


HE  CAME  TO  ME  IN   A  DREAM  LAST 
NIGHT 

HE  came  to  me  in  a  dream  last  night, 
The  one  whom  I  love,  my  sainted  dead; 

He  kissed  my  forehead,  he  kissed  my  hands, 
And  many  a  loving  word  he  said. 

I  told  him  that  long  the  years  had  been, 
That  no  other  held  in  my  heart  his  place ; 

That  't  was  joy  to  hear  his  well-loved  voice, 
It  was  joy  to  see  his  well-loved  face. 

I  woke  at  twitter  of  wild  bird's  note, 
Awoke  at  touch  of  a  lance  of  light. 

My  heart  is  glad,  for  I  know  he  lives; 
He  came  to  me  in  a  dream  last  night. 


107 


DOWN    BY   THE    SUMMER    SEA 

DREAM  dreams,  fair  waking  dreams, 
Down  by  the  summer  sea; 

Let  the  unseen  choir  of  waves 
Sing  many  a  song  to  thee — 
Songs  of  infinity. 

Of  skies  and  seas  that  blend 

On  the  horizon  far, 
Where  twilight's  pale-gold  ladder  leads 

Up  to  the  Evening  Star, 

Shining  alone,  afar. 

List  to  the  undertone 

Of  waters  deep  and  low, 
To  the  soft  rhythm  of  the  waves, 

To  the  high  staccato, 

Coming  whence  none  may  know. 

There  let  the  waters'  voice 

Speak  of  God's  majesty 
In  the  weird  voices  of  the  waves — 

Speak  holy  words  to  thee, 

Down  by  the  summer  sea. 

108 


THE    SUN    HAS    GONE    DOWN 

SUNSHINE  over  the  city, 
And  sunlight  upon  the  bay, 

Peace  and  hope,  joy  and  gladness,— 
Life  but  a  bright  summer  day. 

Fog  and  mist  and  the  darkness 
Over  the  sea  and  the  town ; 

Houses  and  ships  are  specters, 
For,  oh,  the  sun  has  gone  down ! 

Life  was  to  me  all  sunshine, 
When  out  on  the  shoreless  sea 

Sailed  one  I  love,  and  now 

The  sun  has  gone  down  for  me. 


MY    HEART'S    CALENDAR 

THIS  is  my  heart's  brief  calendar; 

April  it  holds  and  May. 
In  springtime  came  he  to  the  earth, 

In  springtime  passed  away. 

109 


WILD   POPPIES 

BEAUTIFUL  golden  wild  poppies 
That  nod  in  the  soft  summer  air, 

Well  were  you  chosen  the  emblem 
Of  land  of  all  lands  most  fair. 

Who  planted  you,  golden  poppies? 

Were  you  here  when  the  world  was  new? 
Were  you  painted  by  the  morning? 

Do  you  mirror  the  snuset's  hue  ? 

Do  you  grow  from  seeds  of  bright  gold 
That  are  hidden  away  from  sight? 

Are  you  stars  come  down  from  the  sky 
That  shine  in  the  radiant  light? 

Are  you  golden  cups  o'erflowing 
With  jewels  of  raindrops  and  dew? 

Why  are  you  so  constant-hearted 
To  the  State  that  has  chosen  you? 

With  gold  you  carpet  the  meadows 
Like  the  gold-paved  land  of  the  blest, 

Wild  poppies,  the  flower  emblem 
Of  the  State  of  the  Golden  West. 


no 


SOMEWHERE— SOMEWHERE 
(MEMORIAL  VERSES) 

IN  a  far-off  land  where  never  the  sun 
Shines  on  a  tress  of  golden  hair, 

Where  never  a  daisy  stars  green  fields 
Or  violet  perfumes  the  springtide  air, 
A  soldier  sleeps,  somewhere,  somewhere ! 

In  a  far-off  land  where  faces  are  dark, 
And  the  tiger  springs  from  its  jungle  lair, 

Where  dull-gold  stars  are  in  tropic  skies, 
And  never  a  blossom  is  scattered — there 
A  soldier  sleeps,  somewhere,  somewhere! 


in 


NORAH'S    LAMENT 

BEFORE  the  round  mirror  she  stood  and  she  cried, 

"  O  Donnely,  Donnely  dear,  do  you  know 
'T  was  grieving  for  you,  love,  changed  Norah's 

hair 

From  tints  of  red  brightness  to  winter's  white 
snow? 

"  O  Donnely  dear,  you  ofttimes  entwined 
My  locks  round  your  fingers  and  called  them 

spun  gold. 

'T  is  only  three  summers  since  you  went  away ; 
Without  thee  life  's  loveless — '  a  tale  that  is 
told.' 

"  O  Donnely,  dear  one,  if  you  could  come  back, 

I  wonder,  I  wonder  if  you  would  know 
The   Norah  you   loved,   with  bright  tresses   of 

gold,— 

Poor  Norah  with  hair  like  the  white  drifted 
snow  ?  " 


112 


HIS    LITTLE    SUN-BROWNED    HAT 

FROM  the  dark  closet's  highest  shelf 

I  took  his  small  hat  down; 
His  little  hat  with  ragged  brim, 

Sun-browned,  with  broken  crown. 

I  fancied  I  should  hear  his  step 
Come  bounding  up  the  stair, 

Should  see  his  merry,  laughing  eyes, 
His  burnished,  wind-tossed  hair. 

I  held  it  with  caressing  hands, 
And  cried,  "  Come  back  to  me 

And  claim  the  little  sun-browned  hat !  " 
Alas,  it  cannot  be! 


(I/If 


0  —  ^   v 

^n 


01645 


42207 


